Aug 19, 2019 2:27 AM
Zevran rescues a Sarah
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Zevran grins. 

"All right, you impatient soul. Coming." He leds Devera to Teshir's place.

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"No, it's fine, I love standing out in the street, glaring at couples."

She waves them in, walking behind them. 

The doorway opens up to a gorgeously maintained courtyard, a little pool in the centre. The tiles in it are the same blue-green of the street, and the tiles around it are a burnt orange, making all the bright colours of the plants around even brighter.

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"Ooh! Is she here? This is she?"

A dark-skinned qunari with an absurdly strong Orlesian accent comes barrelling out from a side door, grinning from ear to ear. 

He stands taller, much taller, than the three elves, and his horns have been shaved down to nubs. Gold chains link them together, and on the chains are tiny bells that chime with each shake of his head.

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Devera blinks, completely caught off guard and suddenly tense.

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Teshir's beaming smile fades a little. He absent-mindedly strokes his face, as if wondering if he had left food on it.

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"Are you all right?" Zevran easily feels the moment she tenses.

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"I... sorry. Just. Last time I saw a Qunari was in - uh, Seheron.."

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Teshir blinks. "Uh...the island?"

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"Yes, darling, the one near Tevinter? The one that Tevinter, Par Vollen and the natives fight over constantly? Where the fear-mongering, brain-washing members of your kin murder people with wild abandon?"

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Teshir chuckles. "Of course, my love, you would be the one to accuse someone else of wild-abandon murder." He leans down to press a kiss to Wildling's cheek.

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Devera relaxes a bit.

"You're not Qunari, then?"

She's never met one of them not of the Qun before. If fighting for her life qualifies as meeting...

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"Not in the religious sense. I was born in Orlais, Montsimmard, to be exact. I am a true Andrastian."

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"To my endless dismay."

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"Dear heart, when you are burnt at the stake for leading a rebellion against cruel Tevinter, I will consider worshipping you."

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"They'd have to catch me first," Wildling laughs, then pouts. 

"I thought you did worship me."

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"In private, and with my whole heart," Teshir agrees. 

He laughs awkwardly once he turns back to Devera. "My apologies, I'm not usually this rude to guests! I am Teshir Girard-Roux, and you are very welcome in my home. Please! I have the sun room prepared for lunch." He gestures to the door he came through.

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"Lets see how terrible his mal custylams are, yes?"

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"I'm not going to deign to correct your pronunciation there," she laughs. "Your taste buds will do the talking."

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Teshir grins, and hurries on ahead, holding the door open for them.

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Zevran walks through first, pulling Devera through with nothing less than pure delight.

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The room is undoubtedly gorgeous. On one side, a full view of the sea, unhampered by other buildings. On the other, a beautiful mural of beasts in the wild.

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Wildling is quick to end the fantasy of the room by flopping onto the nearest couch after grabbing a handful of cold meat.

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"...but other than that, the view is gorgeous. It's why we keep Teshir around."

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"It's beautiful. But I'm sure there is a multitude of other reasons."

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